So, for those of you who don't know there was a 7.7 earthquake in northern Chile this morning. I didn't even feel it a little bit in Santiago. I would have, had I been sand boarding in San Pedro de Atacama, but I was reading in my bed in Providencia. As far as I know, few people were seriously hurt. I'll watch the news and keep you posted.... Also if a Chilean movie called The Vida Me Mata (Life Kills Me), you should see it. Superbien. It's movie week in Chile so I'm heading to a Film Fair down town.
All the best,
Danny
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
Land O' Lakes at the End of the Earth
Chile has this complex in which it thinks of itself as the end of the world. The Andes seem to seperate it from the rest of South America and the expansive Pacific ocean from the rest of the world. Restuarants and brands of wine are named Finis de Terrae. This is a country that includes Antartica in its daily weather report. Looking out at Lake Llanquihue from the snowy side of Volcano Orsono as the late southern hemisphere sun poked through the chilly gray clouds as if some mad, inspired polytheistic diety wanted to create a great work of golden abstract expressionism on the water’s surface that stretched out into forever, I too could begin to feel like I had reached the outer edges of the earth.
This was the Bing Trip. The Bings of course are fabulously wealthy Stanford donors, that finance cultural events for Stanford study abroad programs (They financed our trip to the opera). They want to teach us kids how to be cultured. Traveling on the Bing budget, means traveling well. It means taking planes and private buses (and fancy catamerans) everywhere and staying at the Hotel Gran Pacifico, one of the nicest hotels in the industrial port town of Puerto Montt, with its pristine glass elevator overlooking the bleak city scape by the cloudy, cargo-ship-dotted bay. It also means being part of a huge pack of ridiculous American kids, partying in hotel rooms, taking copious amounts of digital photos, and being the loudest people in any given location. But because almost everything is paid for, it also means giving yourself permission to have fun and be one of those ridiculous American college students, even though it slightly diminishes your sense of moral superiority or synical edge, er something… but hey, you’re only twenty and in Southern Chile with generous benefactors once in your life…Live it up, son, live it up.
We checked into the Hotel GP on Thursday afternoon and had the afternoon free of paid programing to explore the city of Puerto Montt. Puerto Montt is the industrial hub of the Lake District
, it sits on the north shore of the bay that wraps around Chiloe the large, remote island that makes up Chile’s southern Pacific coast. It’s a place that for most of the year is bleak and rainy, with only the bright colors of small, painted fishing boats and over abundant yellow flowered shrubs to liven up the place. When we checked in there was a huge barge heading south into the distance. With a three of my friends I went exploring. We walked along the waterfront until we came to the neighborhood of Angelmo wear people were selling all sorts of crafts to the passing tourists and huge slabs of raw salmon to the locals. We ate lunch in a little seafood restaurant in red building on stilts overlooked the water and housed other little seafood restaurant. I had Curanto a local speciality of steamed shellfish and potatoes and sausage and more. Needless to say it was delicious. Walking back, a man offered us a boat ride to the small island of Tenglo for 300 pesos (60 cents). We hopped on his boat and he took us across to the little green island and made vague plans to meet up later. We walked up the hill and found ourselves
in a shrubby cow pasture, and down the other side to come to a rocky gray beach. Walking along the beach to get back to the other side, we passed a tiny community of shacks made of thin wood and painted aluminum. A group of small girls called out to us, imploring us to adopt a litter puppies of a stray dog birthed on their front lawn. They passed their puppies over the fence and we made conversation while holding the small bodies of new, furry, and tragic lives. We passed them back over the fence and regrettfully declined. The girls made sad faces as we walked away to wait in vain for a boat that would not come, and scurried around to find a new one and pay more so we could get back to our hotel and eat a buffet dinner and party like college students at the end of the earth.
This was the Bing Trip. The Bings of course are fabulously wealthy Stanford donors, that finance cultural events for Stanford study abroad programs (They financed our trip to the opera). They want to teach us kids how to be cultured. Traveling on the Bing budget, means traveling well. It means taking planes and private buses (and fancy catamerans) everywhere and staying at the Hotel Gran Pacifico, one of the nicest hotels in the industrial port town of Puerto Montt, with its pristine glass elevator overlooking the bleak city scape by the cloudy, cargo-ship-dotted bay. It also means being part of a huge pack of ridiculous American kids, partying in hotel rooms, taking copious amounts of digital photos, and being the loudest people in any given location. But because almost everything is paid for, it also means giving yourself permission to have fun and be one of those ridiculous American college students, even though it slightly diminishes your sense of moral superiority or synical edge, er something… but hey, you’re only twenty and in Southern Chile with generous benefactors once in your life…Live it up, son, live it up.
We checked into the Hotel GP on Thursday afternoon and had the afternoon free of paid programing to explore the city of Puerto Montt. Puerto Montt is the industrial hub of the Lake District
, it sits on the north shore of the bay that wraps around Chiloe the large, remote island that makes up Chile’s southern Pacific coast. It’s a place that for most of the year is bleak and rainy, with only the bright colors of small, painted fishing boats and over abundant yellow flowered shrubs to liven up the place. When we checked in there was a huge barge heading south into the distance. With a three of my friends I went exploring. We walked along the waterfront until we came to the neighborhood of Angelmo wear people were selling all sorts of crafts to the passing tourists and huge slabs of raw salmon to the locals. We ate lunch in a little seafood restaurant in red building on stilts overlooked the water and housed other little seafood restaurant. I had Curanto a local speciality of steamed shellfish and potatoes and sausage and more. Needless to say it was delicious. Walking back, a man offered us a boat ride to the small island of Tenglo for 300 pesos (60 cents). We hopped on his boat and he took us across to the little green island and made vague plans to meet up later. We walked up the hill and found ourselves
in a shrubby cow pasture, and down the other side to come to a rocky gray beach. Walking along the beach to get back to the other side, we passed a tiny community of shacks made of thin wood and painted aluminum. A group of small girls called out to us, imploring us to adopt a litter puppies of a stray dog birthed on their front lawn. They passed their puppies over the fence and we made conversation while holding the small bodies of new, furry, and tragic lives. We passed them back over the fence and regrettfully declined. The girls made sad faces as we walked away to wait in vain for a boat that would not come, and scurried around to find a new one and pay more so we could get back to our hotel and eat a buffet dinner and party like college students at the end of the earth.
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